Only Human
by SoundedSummer
Summary: Harry Potter is a savior needing saved, Heero Yuy is a Killer without a purpose, Dumbledore is a Headmaster who needs his pawn alive, and Voldemort just wants control. Heero Yuy may face his hardest mission yet, keeping an unwilling boy alive. SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**AN-This is another old one, that has been sitting on my hard drive for years. It is a very dark story, and the smut will be taken out and cross posted on my AO3 account, if and when I decide to continue it, but not having it here shouldn't detract from the story. **

**Summary- Harry Potter is a savior needing saved, Heero Yuy is a Killer without a purpose, Dumbledore is a Headmaster who needs his pawn alive, and Voldemort just wants control. Heero Yuy may face his hardest mission yet, keeping an unwilling boy alive. SLASH**

**Pairings: Heero Yuy/Harry Potter, Previous Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, 03/05, 02/04**

**Warnings: SLASH! Homosexual relationships. SLASH! SELF HARM! Domestic Abuse, language, substance abuse, violence, sexual situations. Possible Bondage and/or BDSM themes. Others will be named as they apply, but please please pay attention to them. **

**Disclaimer-I own nothing. Bandai owns Gundam Wing A/C, while J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter. Neither Entity is me, sadly. No copyright infringement is intended or implied, and no money is being made in any form off this work.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

Dumbledore had to find a solution, and he had to find one quick. Things were happening more quickly than he thought they would, Voldemort taking bigger steps that Dumbledore had ever imagined, and that was not a good thing.

But was he making the right choice? Bringing this...soldier, into a school full of children and risking a possible massacre, just for one boy who didn't have the sense to listen to his betters?

"Albus? Albus, are you sure about this?" Lady Une, the current Head of the Preventors, a Muggle peacekeeping agency, and Dumbledore's only possible contact with the man he was searching for, looked as unsure about the situation as Albus himself was. She, more than anyone else, knew exactly what he was capable, and did not seem to think he would be the right person to keep in a school.

But Albus Wulfric Percivel Dumbledore did not have a choice, this late in the game. He had to give them a fighting chance, just one, to be able to survive long enough for the Boy Who Lived to fulfill his purpose.

And this was the only way.

"Yes, Lady, I am. Please. Get in contact with him as soon as possible. My owls are coming back

unopened, and the last one was quite grievously injured. He does not seem to trust me." Lady Une laughed at the look of confusion on the old man's face, but kept her thoughts to herself.

'Of course he doesn't trust you, Old Man. I don't either, and if you think you'll be able to control Heero Yuy, you have another thing coming.' Lady Une had been a witch, long before she was a member of OZ, and she knew exactly what her old headmaster was thinking. Harry Potter, the poor boy, was not the first student that Albus Dumbledore had taken a special interest in. There had been many before him, many students chosen for specific tasks, James and Lily Potter being two of them.

Not many of them survived.

"Thank you, Lady. I will be looking for his reply by the end of the week." Albus Dumbledore disappeared without a sound, or even a thank you, the wind from his disapparition moving the papers that were strewn over the conference table, left over from her meeting with the Gundam Pilots who had consented to work for her, and Lady Une let a tight smile of satisfaction cross her face as he disappeared.

She'd wanted eyes and ears inside Hogwarts for years, ever since she accepted this post, and had never been able to slip so much as a Preventor's child into the school, but now...

Now she would have one of her best, and most ruthless, on the inside.

She could finally fulfill the promise she made years ago, to the one person beside Treize that she had ever loved.

Harry James Potter would survive this war, and would thrive, if it was the last thing she ever did.

But first, she had to get Heero on board with the plan.

And that was going to be the hardest part.

Heero Yuy hadn't picked up a gun in over a year.

* * *

"Boy! Boy Get up!' Harry James Potter, fresh and miserable from his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just sighed and rolled out of bed, placing his glasses on his nose without much energy.

It was another day at the Dursleys, and another day living with blood on his hands.

Cedric's blood, Quirrills Blood, Tom Riddle's blood.

It didn't matter that two of the three people he had been the death of were part of Voldemort, they were still people, and died at his hand.

"Hurry up boy! Start breakfast, and then you have chores outside." Petunia Dursley, his unwilling maternal aunt, was standing on the landing outside Harry's room, a frown on her horse like features, her lip curling up in disgust as he stepped out of his room. It was her normal expression when faced with her unwanted nephew, but Harry didn't have the energy to muster up even the slightest bit of dislike for the woman.

Instead, he felt grateful to her. At least someone saw exactly what he was, and what he was worth.

At least he could count on the Dursleys to punish him for his transgressions, when no one else would.

"Yes Aunt Petunia." He continued down the stairs, making sure to press his back against the wall as he moved past her so there was no chance of anything on him coming into contact with her. The last time he had touched them, any of them, Vernon had broken his no touching the freak rule and beat Harry with his belt until Harry could no longer move. He hadn't been able to complete his chores for two days, but he felt calmer.

Until the guilt built up again.

Harry rolled up his too big sleeves before he dropped the skillet on the stove, adding bacon to the hot surface on autopilot, his mind a million miles away.

He could still remember the way Cho sat in the stands, crying with her hands over her face. Harry could still remember the look on Amos Diggorys' face as he lightly touched Cedric's cold hand, the look of total devastation.

He was so caught in his guilty thoughts that he wasn't paying enough attention to the stove, his bare arm coming into contact with the cast iron skillet, producing a sizzling sound as it seared into his skin.

Harry could only stare as a burn began forming, the pain becoming more and more intense as he

failed to move away from it, a strange sort of right taking over his consciousness. The guilt, the anger, it was all gone, and all that was left was...peace.

If nothingness could be called peace.

"That's enough Harry." Harry jerked away at the sound of his aunt's voice, coming from directly behind him, closer than she had been since he was old enough to use the stove without supervision, at least old enough in her mind.

Harry met her eyes, expecting to see condemnation or horror at his actions. Normal people didn't allow themselves to be burned until the skin was black, normal people didn't enjoy the pain so much that it was almost...too much. And the Dursleys were all about everything being 'normal'.

But, his brain almost stuttered to a halt as he realized, there was neither of those emotions in her eyes. But there was...what he would almost call approval?

That was the first time that he felt his Aunt thought of him as more than just a freak.

He didn't want to lose that feeling.

* * *

Heero Yuy sat in front of his computer, a cup of coffee sitting by his left hand as he scrolled through his emails. There were the normal ones from the other pilots; invitations to reunions, birthday parties, and asking for any help he could give on the very few cases that stumped even them; along with the ones from his clients, asking for upgrades/improvements/fixes for their various computers. He clicked through all of them with the same rapid speed he'd always had, sending off a reply to Quatre that yes, he would be there at the reunion next week, just like he was at the one last month, and a note to Trowa to look deeper in the victim's sister. He ignored the upgrade requests, his clients knew that Tuesdays were his off day, and he wasn't going to break that.

"Guess that's it." He went to close the window down, already mentally preparing himself for the grueling twenty mile run and various obstacle courses he had set up for himself. Even though he hadn't touched an actual weapon in 14 months, 16 days, 8 hours, and 24 minutes, he still stayed in peak shape.

Just in case.

Just in case the others came up against someone they needed to call him in for, something that only the Perfect Soldier could handle.

Just in case the world ended.

Just in case of another War.

"You Have Mail." Heero scowled at the voice, moving his cursor away from the corner x and clicking on the new message.

From Lady Une. With a thoughtful frown, Heero began to read, his eyes narrowing as he read her request.

He knew about the Wizarding World, all of the pilots had been sworn to secrecy, but the information had been deemed too dangerous for them not to know, especially if they were going to be working in the Preventer's for any length of time, but Heero had pushed it to the back of his mind and tried to forget about it.

He wasn't a Preventer, he didn't see why he would have any use of the knowledge. It wasn't like wizards used computers and would have any need of his services.

**_Please, Heero. This boy needs someone, anyone, to get him through this alive. I don't know what Albus' plan for him is, but I know that the end game is not for the boy to be alive. He's just like you boys were, thrust into a War and expected to save everyone while the rest of the populace sit around and do nothing. If no one helps him, he will die in his quest for victory, and if he falls to the Dark...I don't even want to think about what will happen._**

**_I can't order you, but I can respectfully request you take it._**

**_Lady Anne Une_**

The last paragraphs were what made up his mind, despite his initial intentions to ignore the mission, like he had so many others through the last year, but he couldn't stand the thought of another child going through what he and the others had gone through.

The War was over, and children weren't not supposed to be used as sacrifices.

Not anymore.

Sending off a quick "Accepted", knowing that Lady Une would couch the words into the correct diplomatic language, and pushed back from his desk, and heading for the safe at the back of his closet, hidden by the rather extensive rack of clothes he'd accumulated over the last few months, turning the old combination lock with a heavy heart.

He told himself that he wasn't excited about getting a gun back in his hand, that he hated the thought of having to use his skills once more, but Heero had never been anything other than brutally honest with himself, and didn't fight back the cruel smirk that crossed his face when he pulled his trusty Glock out of its dusty holster, his hand wrapping around it like it had never left.

It felt like home.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN-Here's the next chapter. The smut scene has not been fully written yet, but it will be posted on AO3 when it is finished. It will not be posted here due to the TOS of the site.**

**A few of you are concerned about how my Dumbledore is reacting. Remember, this is an AU. This will not be the same, cookie cutter characterizations that are seen in the books themselves.**

**Disclaimer-I own nothing. No copyright infringement of any kind is intended or implied. No profit is being made in any way.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"Boy. Clean the shed. Once you're done with that, I have a list of chores inside for you to finish," Petunia Dursley surveyed her nephew dispassionately, noting with approval that the bruise he'd given himself three days prior was still as dark and painful looking as it had been when he first punished himself.

'We finally did something right with the boy.' She thought to herself as she turned away, not waiting to see if he was going to follow her instructions. He always did nowadays, working himself into an exhaustion even if they didn't give him chores to do. 'He hates his freakishness as much as we do.'

The happy homemaker made her way inside the house, humming a nameless tune under her breath as she went about her own chores. There were places, in the house, that she wouldn't allow Harry to see. She wouldn't even allow Vernon to see them, and she had never hidden anything from her husband.

As she cleaned her treasure trove out, running her fingers carefully over the pictures she hoarded away, she thought to herself that things would have been way different, had she been the one gifted with magic, not her slut of a sister.

Petunia would have been Mrs. James Potter.

"Mrs. Dursley! Are you home?" The strange voice carried through the house, and Petunia let out a shrill scream, dropping the photo and fighting back tears as the glass shattered.

"Mrs. Dursley! Are you alright!" Pounding feet headed up the staircase, and a head popped into the open room, followed closely by a stick that Petunia would have recognized anywhere.

"You! Get out of my house! I will not have your kind here!" As the red head blinked, taken aback by her strong words, she waved her hands rapidly like she was shooing a fly out of her kitchen. "I remember what you did last time you were here, we still haven't gotten the fireplace back into order. Now go!"

Andrew Weasley, or something like that she supposed, just frowned at her, and tucked his wand back where ever he kept it when he wasn't threatening normal people. She hurriedly stepped out of her shrine, closing the door behind her with a sharp snap and turning to lock it with the key only she held. Petunia didn't know why he was here, but she wasn't going to let him find out her secret and blab it to all those other freaks.

"Where's Harry, Mrs. Dursley?" there was sharp look in his eyes, but Petunia just looked at him, parking her hands on her hips.

"He's doing his chores. That...school of yours hasn't started yet, you have no reason to be here." She would be damned if she let him go back before it was time, making all the hard work they'd done to the boy a waste.

"Mrs. Dursley, Harry has to be taken somewhere secure, there have been...events," Arthur, that was his name not Andrew, was deliberately vague. "Harry would not want to put his family in danger. We must take him as soon as possible."

Petunia was torn. On one hand, Harry was finally beginning to realize the truth, another few months and they may be able to talk him into leaving the Wizards and their freakishness forever, becoming a normal, contributing member of society. On the other hand, she would not let those freaks hurt her husband and son.

In the end, it wasn't a hard decision, though she felt a momentary pang at what she may be giving up.

"Take the boy, he's in the back shed. Don't bring him back until he's not a threat to my family anymore." She pointed out the door and turned on her heel, telling herself that her hands weren't trembling as she walked away.

She'd always been good at lying to herself, since she was a child.

Arthur Wesley watched the woman walk away, not liking the vibe he had been getting since he stepped foot in this house. Despite what the majority of the world thought, Arthur was not a stupid man, and he saw more things than most others did. As the father of seven, he had learned to spot when people weren't being truthful, and when they were trying to hide behind bluster or pleas.

Petunia Dursley was definitely hiding something, and the picture of James Potter he'd seen in the brief glance he'd had while locating the woman of the house, gave a rather large clue as to what it was.

But Arthur couldn't worry about that right now, he had to worry about Harry. Voldemort was on the move, and all signs pointed to him knowing the location of Harry's summer home. Dumbledore was afraid that with the blood transfer that brought him back to life, the blood wards around the home would no longer be effective in keeping Harry safe.

"Harry? Harry are you out here?" Arthur stepped out into sunny backyard, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes against the glare. He could hear muted thuds and grunts from the small white shed sitting in the far corner of the fenced in yard, identical to the roofs he could see rising from the other yards on the street, clear through to what he believed was called a...highway? Thoroughfare? Muggles had such strange names for things. "Harry!"

Arthur stepped into the shed, coughing as the dust swarmed up around him, startling the boy standing in the corner of the shed, a box of random tools held in his hands. The box fell to the ground with a crash as Harry jumped, spinning around to face the intruder.

"Harry! Dear Merlin what happened?" Arthur ignored the child's fear and stepped up to him, taking his left arm gingerly and examining it. The dark bruise spread from his forearm over his elbow, and Arthur knew that it had to hurt like mad with every move of the limb. But Harry stared at him stoically as Arthur poked and prodded it.

"I hit in on the window ledge while I was cleaning the rafters." There was no emotion in Harry's voice, just a deadness that had Arthur staring at him slack jawed. This, was not the boy that he'd taken to the Quidditch World Cup last summer. That boy was as boisterous and full of life as any of the Weasley boys.

"Come on Harry, Dumbledore wants you somewhere safe." Without another explanation, Arthur made sure he had a tight hold on the boy, and disapparated them.

Dumbledore would want to hear about this.

* * *

Heero growled under his breath, watching from his shadowed corner as the inhabitants of the so-called Order of the Phoenix Headquarters rushed around in disorganized chaos.

The main ringleader, and loudest voice, was one Molly Weasley. She ordered her children, and those who weren't her children, around like a drill sergeant, paying no attention to their strengths and weaknesses.

"Heero, dear, could you give the children a hand with the living room?" And, Heero thought sourly as the woman searched him out like a homing missile on a gundam, refused to accept that Heero was not one of her children and would not listen to her. He was not there to win their war, or to help out cleaning a house that should have been condemned and demolished decades ago.

He was there to protect and train one Harry James Potter, nothing else.

Giving the woman a glare, the Perfect Soldier stood to his feet and collected his laptop, heading up the stairs without another word, leaving her huffing behind him.

"Sorry Mate," One of the Twins, Fred judging by the small freckle on the tip of his nose, brushed past him quickly, pressing against the wall to keep from making contact.

The twins had tried once to prank him, and Heero left them hanging upside down from the center room, over what looked to be a biting book. Since then, they had avoided the gundam pilot like he had the plague.

"Hnn." Heero ignored him, heading up two flights of stairs and turning into the room he would be sharing with Potter when the boy was finally brought to Headquarters. Heero didn't understand why he hadn't been brought there immediately when school ended. Dumbledore had smiled and given some hooky explanation about his mother's blood protecting him, until Heero pointed out the one flaw in that plan.

According to the information from Dumbledore himself, this Voldemort creature was now in possession of some of Potter's blood. Wouldn't that make it possible, even highly probable, that Voldemort would be able to pass through the wards with no problem at all? Heero would admit to being slightly smug about that.

Heero dropped his laptop on the bed closet to the door, surveying the room. It was bare, reminding Heero almost too much of the war days, and found himself missing his own house. He had taken a lot of time and enjoyment in personalizing the house and it was a bitter pill to swallow that he had less than a year to enjoy it.

Especially the play room, lacking a better title for the room he spent most of his time in. Heero smirked and lay back on his bed, casting his mind back to the last night he had spent in his home, with his favorite playmate. The memories flowed over him as his hand made its way down towards the tight jeans he wore, undoing the buttons holding his fly shut with an expert flick of his fingers.

**NC-17 SCENE CUT**

"Harry's here! Hermione, Harry just got here!" The sound of the youngest Weasley boy, and soon enough his girlfriends' voice joining in jerked Heero out of his relaxed state, and he grimaced as he took in the state of his fingers and his jeans. Sticky strands of white clung to his digits and he wiped them of on his jeans, shimming out to the tight material and reaching over for a new pair absently.

If he had to meet his new charge today, it was probably best that he was in a relaxed state. From what he had heard from Severus Snape, Harry Potter was a handful when he felt that his life was being controlled without his consent.

Who knew how he was going to take getting a bodyguard who controlled his almost every move.

Stretching and making his way down the stairs slowly, giving the teens clustered at the top of the stairs a side long glance, Heero frowned as the sound of raised voices became more pronounced as he got closer to the ground floor. The adults, all of them from the sound of it, were screaming trying to be heard over each other, and it made Heero's teeth grit.

Allies should not argue like this. He pushed the swinging door leading to the kitchen open, and frowned when he was forced to come to a stop, only his quick reflexes keeping the door from swinging back into his face as it met a shield.

"I'm sorry, dear, but this discussion is just for the adults." Molly Weasley smiled at him as she said it, giving him her best motherly look, but it faltered as Heero met it with what Duo called Death Glare 37. "We'll be done in a few moments, you should go wait with the other children." The red haired woman turned away from him, her hands trembling, but Heero paid her no more attention as he focused his glare on the Headmaster.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting in the midst of the all the chaos, his eyes focused on the small, quiet figure sitting across from him, and it took a few moments for him to acknowledge Heero's eyes on him.

"Ah, Mr. Yuy." Albus gave him a smile, stroking his beard with the tip of his fingers. "If you'll kindly go wait with the others, we will be out in a moment."

That. Was. It.

Heero pulled his gun out with a quick motion, and fired once. The bullet, whether from the magic not recognizing it as a threat or it being a Muggle invention, slid through the barrier like butter and slammed into the wall across from him. The room went silent immediately, all the adults turning to look at him like he was a threat that they had never considered before, except for the only teen in their number, who kept his eyes on the table and his hands folded in front of him.

"Dumbledore, either let me in to see to my charge, or our arrangement is over." It was an ultimatum, one that Heero was more than willing to follow through with, and Dumbledore must have seen that in his eyes. It was only a few seconds, with a heavy sigh that moved through his whole body, for Dumbledore to raise his wand and release the barrier, allowing Heero to step through quickly, raising it back up to prevent the other teens from entering as well.

Heero ignored the other occupants of the group, and immediately stepped to his charge. It was obvious that this was Harry Potter, and his mission had finally started. He lifted the teens head, studying his closely, and didn't like what he saw.

The Harry Potter he'd been told about, the Harry Potter he'd been expecting, was not in front of him. This boy looked like a shell of a person, not the stubborn teen full of rebellion.

Something wasn't right.

* * *

**AN-Short, but things will be moving a lot faster once I get Harry and Heero's working relationship established. Reviews are always appreciated, and look for the Lemon soon.**


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